


Loathe to Love, Love to Loathe

by villainous_surrender



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ben is Head Boy of Gryffindor, Class Rivals, Crossover, Dirty Talk, Edging, F/M, Fluff later down the line, Hate Sex, Hogwarts AU, Love/Hate, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rey is Head Girl of Ravenclaw, Reylo - Freeform, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7669684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villainous_surrender/pseuds/villainous_surrender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the beginning, they had been rivals. It all started when they were first-years during a broom flying class. He had bumped into her while playing a blasted game of catch with his buddies, causing to her to plummet face-first into the grass. In the moment that he didn’t apologize and instead told her to watch where she was going, he had declared war against her. </p><p>Now, in their last year, she is Head Girl of Ravenclaw, a title she earned through hard work, and he is the Head boy of Gryffindor, a title that seemed to be thrust upon him. She despises the guy, nevermind that she walked by the men’s locker room one time after the Quidditch team finished practice and saw him shirtless (he has a freakin eight pack under all that robe)‒no, she detests him. He is like a mosquito bite on the most unreachable part on your back, a kink you just can’t work out. How she ends up with two of his fingers up her hot center in the Hogwarts library while biting back a moan is a story that should be long but really isn’t. This is so not how she thought this night would go. She was supposed to be studying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am Reylo trash, and although I don't know a lot about the Hogwarts world, I love Harry Potter, so I tried combing two fandoms I love. I also love the idea of Rey and Ben being class rivals, who have a secret attraction for each other. Enjoy! Btw, they are both eighteen in this fic, so this is not underage.

“Is there any reason you’re in the  _ restricted  _ section of the library, Rey,” Kylo chides, hovering over her, as she is hunched over a book titled  _ A Guide on Cross-Species Transfiguration.  _

When she hears the deep baritone of a voice, she jumps up, shutting the book closed, her feather pencil falling out of her hand and clattering to the floor.  

“I…,” she gulps, unable to look up at him, at his stupid face. Then, she realizes he is in the restricted section as well. “I could ask you the same question,” she shoots back, her tone cold, even, and unrevealing. 

He shrugs, taking a bite of an apple he seems to have pulled out of nowhere. “It’s expected of me to be in here. I’m a troublemaker after all.” He points to himself, proud and smirking through a mouthful of apple. “But you,” he points to her, “Miss High and Mighty, I wouldn’t expect something like this from you. I mean, if the disciplinary figures found out about this, they would be very  _ surprised _ that their star student breaks the rules just like the rest of us.” He gives her the once-over, his arms crossed over his chest. 

Rey jumps out of her seat, standing in front of him to grab onto the collar of his robe, threatening, making him drop his apple to the ground. Neither of them pay it any mind. She hisses, “You  _ wouldn’t.  _ We both know I would bring you down with me.” 

“Hey get your hands off me! It was a freakin joke! I am a lot of things, but I am not a snitch.” He takes her hands off him and backs away from her, his tall, lanky form hitting the bookshelf behind him, making them tremble. 

“Oh.” Realizing that she actually touched him, she looks down at her hands. “Well, still I don’t appreciate the implication of a threat, even if it is a so-called joke. I don’t like the idea of you knowing something about me that you could possibly use to sabotage me. If I get kicked out, I would be seriously fucked, and all my hard work would go to waste. It’s not like I could have  _ mommy dearest  _ pull some strings to get me back in, since she is the Minister of Magic.” 

He moves closer to her, until he is hovering over her small, lithe form, his height towering over her. “Don’t you ever speak about my  _ mother _ ,” He hisses, his voice at the level of a whisper, yet still menacing. 

She turns her head away from him, his gaze too penetrating, too alarming, and steps back from him. She knows she went too far. She’d never really encountered him except in their shared classes where they often engaged in heated debates that had everyone in the class glancing back and forth between them, like they were on television, hanging on to every word, trying to figure out who was winning. Even though they have said a lot of nasty things to each other, she never uttered a word about his mother, a woman she holds in the highest esteem.

Twiddling her fingers, her bottom lip latched under her teeth, she says hesitantly, “I...apologize for bringing your mother into this. It was uncalled for,” she takes in a gulp of air, “I admit.” She leans back on the desk, her hands gripping the smooth edges. “It’s just that you’re so,” she throws her hand in the air, trying to find the right word, “I mean,” she stumbles, “you’re so frustrating and cocky, and you act like you know everything, and—”

“ _ I _ act like I know everything! Please!” He shakes his head and emits a snort. “You’re the one who is so caught up in yourself like ‘Oh, I’m in Ravenclaw, so you better listen to me because I know what I’m talking about.’” He points to himself, seeming to fawn over himself in a mock imitation of her feminine voice. It would actually be kind of funny, if he wasn’t so infuriating. 

She gasps, standing up straight. “You’re just mad that I always have supporting evidence to back up my argument and don’t just spur out vague statements with ambiguous language.” 

“Do you even hear yourself right now? ‘Ambiguous language and supporting evidence.’ Do you know how pretentious you sound?” 

“You’re accusing me of being pretentious, really?! I work ten times as hard as anyone to get up there with people like you. People who don’t appreciate how  _ easy _ they have it and how well-connected they are. I was an orphan at six-years-old. There was no one there to support me. I had to do it all on my own!” 

“Do you think I asked for this?!” He runs his fingers through his hair, grunting, his frustration apparent in his tone. “Everyone expects me to be some brilliant little prodigy because of my family’s reputation, okay. Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to fuck up, because if I did, I’d let down a lot of people. Eventually, I stopped giving a shit and just did what I wanted, the consequences be damned. So, don’t you dare talk about how easy I have it. You don’t know the half of it.” 

“That is...very difficult to deal with I am sure, and actually explains a lot about your behaviour, but nonetheless it doesn’t give you an excuse to act like a jerk to people, so you can just ‘do whatever you want’ as you put it. Maybe you could, I don’t know, find a healthier way to deal with all the pressure.” She looks at him, like she’s picking him apart. 

“No one really put it to me like that.” He sighs. “I mean no one really took the time.” He pulls out a chair and sits down. He places his head in his hands and laughs, “I can’t believe I have to hear it from  _ you _ of all people.” 

“I, unlike a lot of people you know I’m sure, am not afraid to tell you the truth.” 

He looks up at her, smirking. “You never were.” 

The way he’s looking at her right now is  _ dangerous,  _ and he needs to stop. It makes her think that he thinks of her with something other than complete and utter disdain. This moment is all too surreal to her, so she scrunches forehead in deep thought, trying to figure how to go from here, as she strokes her chin. She does the only thing she does best, opening her mouth to form a question, grasping for knowledge. “So, what are you  _ really _ doing here? It’s the night of the Quidditch finals, and you’re here instead of there,” she points out the nearest window. “There must be something important to you here, and I’d like to know what it is.” She crosses her arm over her chest, looking down at him. 

“I’m injured, remember? It was all over the student newspaper. And although I love supporting my team, it just isn’t as fun being there when I’m not playing in the field. Plus, I don’t like to watch  _ Hux  _ scoring goals when I can’t be there to prevent them.” The person he dislikes most in the world is that obnoxious pure-blood Hux, and his tone reveals it. 

She nods in agreement to his statement about the red-headed Slytherin. “You still haven’t answered my question.” 

He sighs, running his hands through his hair. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell anymore. Seeing as though we could both get in trouble for being here, I think it’s best to maintain a sense of comradery, a treaty if you will.”

She smiles slightly, wanting to know the secret reason he comes in here, her brain going in many different directions, trying to latch onto the most likely one. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.” She’s on the brink of excitement, knowing she is so close to finding out. 

“I read up on the dark arts.” 

She gasps, her hand rising to cover her mouth. 

“What?” His voices raises a pitch, his tone defensive. “I just find it interesting. I’m not one of  _ them _ . I’m not like my grandfather.” He says softly, like it’s a sin to even mention him. 

“I’m not accusing you of  _ that. _ It’s just that you know that….um….he who shall not be named was rumoured to have taken a book on horcruxes from here, causing Dumbledore to remove all books regarding the subject. And I don’t want him to do that with some  _ subjects  _ in here considering that I also read up on the dark arts in my spare time,” she admits, cautious, like she’s dipping her feet in a cool lake, testing the temperature.

“You do?” His eyes light up, lifting his head to meet her gaze.  

“Yes. Why do you think I’m so good in our Defense Against the Dark Arts class?” She smirks, one eyebrow rising slightly over the other. “I’m an advocate for more teachings on the darks arts. I don’t think we should shy away from it. It could be useful in learning how to defend ourselves against dark magic.”

“My thoughts exactly.” 

“I’m sorry,” she throws her hands up in the air in a surrender, “but this is all very weird. I mean, we’re actually agreeing on something.” 

“Despite what you may think, I don’t actually hate you. I just reciprocate whenever you do something to me. You’re the one always starting the fights.” 

She is taken aback. “That is not true at all!” 

“Really,” he deadpans; it isn’t said like a question but a true statement. 

“Well, maybe I’m still upset over a certain encounter you never apologized for. And I didn’t even provoke you at the time.” She places a hand on her hip, cocking it forward. 

“And that would be?” He is genuinely confused, his brow furrowed. 

“That time you nearly trampled me over in our flying lessons,” she answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. It pisses her off even more that he doesn’t even remember.

“That was six years ago!” He rises out of his chair, not bothering to push it back into place, as he turns to face her. “You hold a grudge like a Slytherin!” 

“Still, you said it was  _ my _ fault for not watching where I was going!” 

He chuckles, his hand covering his mouth. “Okay, I apologize for being a jerk for you that day.”  

"I guess I'll forgive you for that since it happened so long ago, but that doesn't mean I forgive you for your other countless offenses towards me." 

"Fair enough, I've said some pretty nasty stuff."

"Yeah, like the time you said my boobs were so tiny they look like they belonged on a prepubescent boy who was fed too many hormones."

"In my defense, you had told me that my ego was so big that I must be compensating for having a small dick."

She snickers, "I know. I'm still proud of that. It was pretty clever at the time."

"Still that was a low blow."

"Well, what can I say? You're so infuriating!"

"And you're not? Even when we're done having an argument, I still think about it for hours afterwards, obsessing over it, and what I could have said. I don’t know how, but you've managed to get under my skin."

"So you think about me a lot?" She moves closer to him, looking up at him in a way that she knows makes him feel like she can see right through him. 

"All the time."

She doesn't know why, but she rushes over to him and kisses him, not even thinking about the consequences. He is surprised, so he doesn't kiss her back at first, but then he leans into her, reaching to stroke her hair with his slender fingers.

Realizing what is currently happening, she pulls backs from him and mumbles, "I'm...um....sorry. I don't know why I did that."

His hand continues to run through her hair, "Don't be afraid. I feel it too."

She laughs softly. "You mean to tell me that neither of us is good at admitting our attraction for one another and instead fight to hide it?"

He nods.

"Wow, we are so childish." She shakes her head in disbelief. 

"So, where do we go from here?" He asks, tentative, still wanting to reach out to her. 

"To be honest, I have no idea. I'm not ready to process what I've just admitted to. I'm fully prepared to walk out that door and pretend this never happened."

"Don't go," he says in a low voice, the hint of a plea he’s trying to hide. "I want to make you feel so good. You don't have to give anything back. I just want you to see I can be something other than an insufferable jerk."

"Yes," she says, a hushed affirmation, her desire spoken aloud like a prayer, a wish upon a star. He moves closer to her. "But I have one condition." 

He raises his eyebrows, hearing her out.

"I don't want this to be some mushy, romantic encounter. That isn't us. We've always fought. We've always antagonized each other. I want you to pretend nothing has changed, except now that we are sexually attracted to each other. Make me  _ beg _ for it." Her voice is a clear demand, not shying away from him. 

He nods. "I understand what you mean, but do let me know if I cross a line.”

Then, his lips are pressing against hers, a violent, aggressive punch of a kiss. His large, muscular arms wrap around her small form, drawing her closer, so they are chest to chest. Before Rey can pull away to catch her breath, he drives his tongue in her mouth, as they fight for dominance, an attack and interlock of tongues. His hands roam over her shoulders, her strong back, and her ass, greedy and possessive, as if he doesn’t know where to touch, wanting to feel all of her. She pulls away from him, shoving him back with a hand on his toned chest. “What? Did you think it would be that easy?” She taunts him. 

He shoves her against the bookshelf behind them, not too rough but not exactly gentle, giving her no choice but to arch against him. “That’s exactly what I think,” he whispers in her ear, his voice deep and gruff. 

That deep rumble of a voice shoots shivers from the base of her spine straight to her head, making her slightly dizzy, and she wonders if he sounds like that when he first wakes up in the morning. He gives her that look again, that damned look again that says,  _ No matter what I do I could never get enough of you.  _

He starts to take off her robe, and Rey helps him. He eyes her uniform, frustrated at how many clothes she must wear at this establishment. She slips her grey sweater over her head and loosens her blue-striped tie, taking it off. She’s about to drop it to the ground with the rest of her small pile of discarded clothes, but he stops her, shaking his head. 

“I have an idea,” taking the tie from her, “but first take off your shirt and  _ bra _ .” He commands.  

When she unbuttons her shirt and slips off her bra, he takes both of her hands with one of his and raises them above her, holding her there. He fastens the tie around her hands, hooking it to a sturdy ring hanging from the mouth of a brass lion-shaped ornament, which sticks out from the bookshelf. When he knows she cannot move, he kisses along the curve of her ear, reaching to caress the line of her jaw, then the soft flesh of her neck. 

“Tell me you want this, Rey,” He whispers in her ear, breath hot on her slick skin. 

“And if I don’t?” Her face is turned from his, as she wraps her legs around his waist, drawing him closer.

“Then, I leave and this never happened.” He manages to croak out, as she grinds against him. He lets her feel him through his uniform, feel how damned hard she makes him. 

“Consider this my enthusiastic consent.” She captures his lips, nipping at his mouth. 

He nods, pulling away from her lips, and dips his head to kiss along her chest, descending at the gap between her pert breasts. He takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, suckling at it, and fingers the other with his hand, tugging at it slightly. As he lathers her sensitive nipples with his tongue, she thinks how she wants to run her fingers through his soft, wavy hair and lets out a moan.  

He rises to his full height, slipping his hand beneath her skirt, surprised that she’s only wearing lace panties underneath her plaid skirt. He rubs at her hot center through her panties, slow and teasing, and she quivers, losing her balance beneath him, but he holds her in place.  

With his other hand he cups her chin, holding her in place, so she is forced to look at him. “I bet you think about this all the time after class, late at night. I bet you fantasize about this, and you  _ hate  _ yourself for it.” His ministrations below her skirt grow faster, more forceful, until he pulls her panties aside. Discovering how wet she is, he shoves two fingers inside her, making her jerk up straight, but he does not move any further inside her, simply waits for her answer. She bucks her hips, trying to get some sort of friction, trying to get him to move,  _ goddamnit. _

He shakes his head and says, “Rey,” drawing out the last syllable, making her name sound boundless coming out from between his lips. 

“Yes,” she whimpers. “Yes, I think about it a lot.” 

“Do you touch yourself, thinking about it?” 

“Yes,” she bites her bottom lip, looking down, slightly ashamed. 

“Tisk Tisk, if only they knew what a  _ bad girl  _ you are, how you touch yourself thinking about  _ Ben Organa  _ of all people.” He breathes in. “What do you think about?” 

“I think about your head between my legs until you can’t taste anything but  _ me _ on your lips.” 

“I guess the only solution is to give you what you want then.” He takes his fingers out from her and falls to his knees. She groans from the loss of contact. He pulls her panties all the way down from her legs, shoving them into his pocket. 

_ The asshole,  _ she thinks. 

He massages her smooth skin, reveling in the taut muscles of her legs and thighs. Slipping his head under her skirt, he plants kisses along her thighs, starting at her knee and working his way up. Gooseflesh ripples across her skin, as she moans out his name. He can smell her arousal, a unique feminine scent that is all  _ her. _ He could drown himself in that scent, in the evidence of her arousal‒it only makes him want her all the more. He pulls her legs over his shoulders and places his lips on her wet center, kissing her slowly, full of purpose. 

“Fuck” she whispers. 

He spreads her open with his fingers and licks her slowly from bottom to top. Her thighs shake around him, her legs tightening on his shoulders. She pulls her hands down, the pleasure all too great, tugging against the tie. He loses himself in her, alternating between the flat part of his tongue and the tip, speeding up only to slow down and prolong her pleasure. When she is close, he inserts a single finger inside her. He adds another, sucking at her clit, until she can feel nothing but the hard pressure of his tongue on her. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop...” she pleads, as his fingers curl inside her one final time and she comes, moaning herself hoarse. Books fall from the shelf above them, Rey’s uncontrollable ministrations too strong, nearly raining down on them both, but they don’t care. Her body sags, her knees trembling as he takes her legs from his shoulders and smoothes her skirt down, getting her settled. 

He rises to his full height, releasing her from her bindings. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, that was perfect.” She brings her hands down to her sides, and smiles, dazed and blissful, her cheeks flushed. 

He likes how pink her cheeks are, the blush he’s just caused. He leans down to pick up the books on the floor, placing them in their appropriate places. “So…I ask again…where do we go from here?” 

As she dresses herself, she answers, “I think it’s best we pretend to hate each other in class. I can’t think about  _ this  _ right now,” she points to the small space between them. “Plus, it makes me kind of hot to convince everyone we can’t stand each other, when we actually can’t keep our hands off each other.” 

He nods, smirking. “I can do that.” 

“Good,” she turns to face him, reaching her hand out, “And my panties?” 

“Oh, these?” He pulls them out from his pocket. “I’m keeping these,” shoving them back inside. Then, he walks away from her, leaving her to get dressed. Once she is done, she picks up his half-eaten apple from the floor, throwing it away. She shakes her head, thinking how good it feels to hate him and how much of a cocky asshole he is. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I tried to stop at one chapter, but nah fam that ain't happening. There are simply too many smutty funsies to be had. In this chapter, Rey returns the favor after the night in the library. ;)

Ben groans into his pillow, a loud and frustrated expulsion from his body, before sitting upright in his bed. As he rubs his eyes with both hands, he decides he’s spent enough time tossing and turning tonight. 

Truthfully, he cannot go to sleep because he keeps thinking about Rey and what happened in the library. It had been a week since that day, and Rey acted like nothing had occurred between them, prim and proper as ever, which led Ben to think obsessively  _ Would it ever happen again?  _ He desperately wanted it too. 

Mustering up some courage, he texts her (they are one of the few students who have mobile cellphones). He still has her number saved in his phone from when they were assigned to work on a project together in a previous charms class.  _ That  _ so did not go well, but he was unable to delete her contact from his phone. 

He types into the phone: Would you like to hang out tonight?

She replies in a few minutes: I would love to, but I’ve got to study. I have a test tomorrow in Astronomy. 

He doesn’t take it personally, knowing how important her studies are to her and replies: That’s alright, but you should know that I’m going to workout, so you’ll be missing out on watching me get all hot and sweaty. 

Rey: Breaking curfew, I see? Such a good example for all those Gryffindors students that you’re Head Boy of. 

Ben: Are you in the restricted section of the library, again? 

Rey: No…

Ben: Hypocrite. 

Rey: I am setting a good example for my fellow Ravenclaws. I’m telling them to go to whatever means to obtain knowledge. 

Ben: Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe. :) 

With that, he grabs his workout clothes and heads out the door. He knows exactly how to avoid the prefects who patrol to make sure no one is up past curfew because he was in that position not too long ago. He may be a hypocrite since he’s supposed set a good example as Head Boy, but he isn’t much for rules. Anyways, Gryffindors are  _ known  _ for breaking rules. 

Having just finished up his late-night run near the Quidditch Pitch, he heads into the locker room and takes a shower. As the water runs down his back, he rubs shampoo through his hair, letting his muscles relax. Once he finishes, he dries himself with a towel. He steps out of the shower and ties the towel around his waist. He walks towards his locker to get his clothing out, so he can change. When he opens his locker, he hears the door swing open.

Turning to see who it is, he sees Rey, wearing ratty, old white sneakers and her uniform robe, except there’s a string tied around it, making it resemble a bathrobe. Her hair is undone, falling down in long tresses behind her. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he tilts his head the side, “not that I’m complaining.”

Completely silent, she takes a moment to scan her eyes over his body: the muscles of his arms, his broad shoulders, and rippling abs. Holding a lock of hair with her finger, she twists it and says simply, “I finished studying.” In an instant, she drops the robe and reveals to Ben her white, see-through one-piece. As she walks to him, she continues, “I just wanted to return the favor, considering you were so generous the other day in the library.”

Meanwhile, Ben is stunned into silence, his mouth agape and eyes wide, unable to move an inch towards her.

Rey closes the distance between them and places her hands on his chest, looking into his eyes. “Ben, are you okay?”

“Where did you get  _ that _ ?” He looks down at her one-piece.

“Oh, this old thing?” She smirks. “Sometimes, I wear it on nights when I’m feeling extra sexy.” One eyebrow rises suggestively.

“I can see your nipples through it.”

“You can? Oops.” She laughs innocently and looks down at her chest, shimmying side to side slightly. “You know, I walked by here once and saw you shirtless after Quidditch practice. I had to shove down the dirty thoughts that were running in my head. God, I felt so guilty.”

“I can see your nipples,” he repeats, like he’s caught in a trance. 

She reaches her hands up to his face and holds his head with them, forcing him to look at her. “I ask again, are you okay?”

“Sorry,” he says, finally snapping out of his daze, “It’s not often that a beautiful woman comes into the locker room after you’ve worked out, and says she’ll suck your cock. I mean, this is some middle-school-wet-dream-level shit.”

She laughs, “Shut up,” and places her index finger on his lips. “You’re not in charge here, I am.” She presses her chest against him, her nipples hardening against his full pec muscles. “You’re gonna sit back for once and just take it, just like you made me do in the library.” 

He nods his head and reaches his hand out to grab her firm ass, trying to test his limitations. 

She shakes her head, swatting his hand away. “No touching. There will be time for that later.” She grabs the hand that just tried to feel her up, clasping over it with hers. She brings it to her left breast. His hand is enormous compared to her small, pert breast‒he could cover both with just one hand. “I want you to touch me there like you did last week,” she commands, husky and breathy. 

Before he does as she asks, he begins to tug down on the straps of the onesie with his other hand. “Will you let me go?” He indicates down at the hand she is currently holding. 

She nods, releasing her grip on his hand, and helps him shove down the straps over her shoulders, so her breasts are revealed. 

He looks down at her to gage her reaction and lifts one of his hands to palm his fingers over her left nipple. “You know I didn’t think your nipples would be brown. I was surprised that they weren’t pink,” he says mostly because he doesn’t know what to say. “I like them,” he adds, looking away from her. 

“So, you’ve thought a lot of what my nipples look like under my shirt, then?” She gives him a knowing smirk. 

The tips of his ears turn pink, burning. “You could say that,” he admits, smiling. He reaches his head down to her chest, suckling at the other nipple, never leaving either one unattended to. Dipping her head back, she moans. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ Ben. You’d better stop,” she pulls away from him, “before I like it too much. This is about you.” 

She takes his right hand and lifts it to her lips, capturing two fingers in her mouth. She sucks on his fingers,  _ hard,  _ the sounds emitting from her mouth outright obscene. Of course, all the blood in his body goes straight to his cock, and suddenly the towel is too tight around his body, restricting him. He shifts uncomfortably, trying to find a position that doesn’t make him feel like he’s being strained against the texture of the towel, which is rough from use. 

“Wow, is that for me?” Her eyebrows lift. She runs her fingers along his chest, dipping down lower to his abdominals, dangerously close to where he wants her to be, then trailing back, teasing him. “Do you want me to touch your cock, Ben?” 

“Yes, of course,” he says, his tone like the beginning of a beg. 

“You’re gonna have to kiss me first.” 

Then, he captures her lips with his. He wraps his arms around her small frame, enveloping her, and squeezes her slightly, his biceps flexing in the process. This is a hungry, desperate kiss in essence but a searching one too, like he wants to spend days peeling each layer of her apart until he reaches the core of her, something that is all Rey.  _ But it’s only a kiss,  _ he thinks, aching for it to be so much more. 

As they descend deeper into the kiss, Ben runs his fingers through her hair, soothing and caressing, a stark contrast to the ferocity of his kiss. In unison with his strokes, she rubs his cock through the towel, palming it, teasing and slow. She pulls away from him, breaking the kiss, and begins to strip off the towel. Once it lands on the floor, she steps back to take a few moments to admire his cock. She tilts her head and places her index finger on her chin, considering. 

Meanwhile, Ben’s mind is racing with insecure thoughts like  _ Does she like it? What if she thinks it’s weird?  _ He often worries if his member is too small for his huge frame, and goddamnit, that stupid vein that runs along his shaft is as noticeable as a crack in a mirror. 

“I like it! It’s so pretty!” She gushes.  

“You think my dick is pretty?” He sounds embarrassed, not expecting her answer at all. 

“Did I hurt your feelings?” She moves closer to him, planting a brief kiss on his lips. “Because I didn’t mean to. Pretty is  _ good _ . You should have noticed how wet I got when I saw it.” 

“Really?” he asks, not believing her. 

“Yes, I’ll show you.” She bring her hand to her center, pulling aside the fabric of the one-piece slightly. She dips her finger inside, and he sees how easy it slides in. When she pulls her finger out, she puts it in front of his face, a clear liquid sticking to her finger, dripping. “See?” she encourages. 

He nods. 

“It’s your turn to suck.” 

He does as she asks, licking her fingers clean. 

“Good boy,” she says. 

Something in him melts at that, his chest swelling with warmth, something other than desire: almost validating, prideful even. 

“Now, where was I?” She presses her body against him and grabs his cock, more forceful this time, the pace a little faster. As she strokes him, she kisses along his neck, sucking hard enough that his skin will blossom in bruises the next day, then reaches the flesh of his collar bone. Precum begins to drizzle from the head of his cock, as Ben moans. 

Rey pulls away her lips away from his, still continuing her strokes along his cock, and looks him in his eyes. She says in a mock malicious tone, “You know, I don’t appreciate you taking one of my favorite pairs of panties. What do you even do with them? Keep them in some special place like a trophy? Or do you place them under your pillow and sniff them before you go to bed like some creep?” She knows this game and how to play it because she’s the one who created it. 

He mumbles something, his moans making his words indiscernible. 

“What was that?” She turns her head to hear him better. 

“I keep them in a hidden place...as a reminder...of that night.” He manages to croak out.

“See what a mess I’ve made of you, Ben?” She croons. “Who else can make you this hard?” She looks down at his engorged cock, running her thumb over his pink and swollen head. 

“No one, Rey.” He admits, his breath coming out in large huffs. 

She smiles at that and pulls her hand away from his cock. She gets on her knees and looks up at him, imploring, “Do you want me to suck your cock?” 

“Yes,” he says breathy. 

“Then, you better ask nicely.” 

“Will you please suck my cock?” 

“Yes,” she smirks, still gazing up at him, “but first, I must ask: where would you like to come?” 

He is silent, struck by the crude implications of the question. 

“I mean, would you like to come inside my mouth, on my lips, or on my breasts. Which is it?” 

“Inside,” he replies, hoping she will like his answer. 

“Okay, just tell me when you’re about to cum.” 

She grabs his cock with her hand and gives him a little stroke, bringing him close to her lips. Rey smiles up at him, just before grazing her tongue around the edge of his head. He hisses, when she makes contact with the sensitive skin. To get him nice and slick, she runs her tongue along the length of his shaft, making sure to lather every inch. This makes him let out a loud, guttural moan, a release of something deep inside him. She squeezes her thighs together, desperately wanting to touch herself, but she doesn’t want to distract herself from the task at hand. She wants to give him her full attention like he did that night in the library. 

She  pauses at the tip to lick her way around it and then takes more of his cock in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. His hips begin to writhe. She curls her tongue around his cock, making a bed for it, and increases her speed as she sucks his cock. Although he is rather larger in size, she tries to take in as much as she can, feeling him rub against her throat. 

Caught in the pleasure of her ministrations, Ben lifts one of his arms up and slams his fist against the hard metal of the lockers, making the lockers tremble. Rey drops her hands from his length and takes him fully, deciding to grip his thighs, her nails digging into the soft, taut flesh. Adding extra pressure, she bobs up and down on his cock.

“I’m going to cum soon,” he whimpers, barely audible, his orgasm building at the base of his spine. 

Rey begins to moan against his cock, the vibrations setting him off further. She gives him access to push himself deeper in her throat and doubles her speed and pressure. When he cums, she swallows down as much as she can, but eventually has to pull away from him to get some air. She wipes the remaining cum with her tongue, making sure to clean up all of it. 

“Thank you,” he hums contentedly. 

“You’re very welcome.” 

He leans his full weight against the lockers, slack and heaving. She stands back up, placing a kiss on his chest, relaxing against him. He wraps his arms around her, embracing her. “I hope you know I can’t leave you like this, so wet and hot for me.” 

“Oh?” 

“Get on your hands and knees on that bench over there.” He points to the wooden bench in front of them. 

“Are you going to fingerbang me in the men’s locker room?” She says jokingly, moving towards the bench. 

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” 

“Lucky me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the whole mobile phones in the Hogwarts world seems a bit far fetched, but there is actually a Harry Potter wiki page for it. 
> 
> Here's the link: http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Mobile_phone


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben meet unexpectedly on the Covered Bridge. 
> 
> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to @personalphilosophie, who came up with the idea for the chapter.

In the midst of the late afternoon, Rey stands on the wooden bridge gazing up at the sky. Between day and night, the sun sets in a mix of pinks and oranges and yellows. Having just finished her Transfiguration examination, she feels the weight lift defly off her shoulders, as she takes each calming breath.

She senses Ben approaching from behind before he has the chance to say anything. She has memorized the way he walks: almost graceful in the simple ease of his step and stride but at the same time heavy, like he cannot bear the weight of himself. She whips around to face him, giving him a nod of acknowledgement.

“Funny running into you here,” he gives her his signature smirk, his tall figure looming over her.

“Not really, considering that we both attend the same school.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re such a moment-killer?”

Her jaw drops, slightly offended. “Don’t call me that!” She reaches her hand out, aimed to smack against his shoulder. Before she can, however, he grabs her by the wrist, holding it in place mid-air.

“Oh, so you want to hit me? Go ahead, I _dare_ you,” he urges. He stares down at her, his height imposing, with a playful glint in his eyes, his lips twisted in a smirk.

 _Oh, so he wants to play the game,_ Rey thinks. Ever since their agreement in the restricted part of library, they’ve tried to see how much they can get away with in public before people start to figure out they’re hooking up. Everything from witty banter in the classroom to suggestive glances across the Great Hall during lunch, as they both chat with their friends. _Well, two can certainly play at this game._

She starts to twist her wrist, trying to free herself from his grip. Raising her voice, as a few classmates pass by, she shouts, “Stop bothering me Ben! Haven’t you learned you lesson by now? Or do you simply spend your days coming up with ways to annoy me?” Her tone feigns seriousness, accusing, but he can see the mischievous glint in her eyes. The passersby pay them no heed as they walk past them, knowing that this isn’t an uncommon occurrence between Ben and Rey.

“Anything to get a reaction out of you, _dear._ There’s nothing that gets me harder than watching you scream and shout at me.”  

Rey scoffs, her mouth twisted in disgust at his confession. Once the passersby are completely gone, she takes the opportunity to rattle Ben just as he did all those years before. Reaching up to him, she stands on the tips of her toes and places a kiss on his lips, deep in its intensity, a kiss that has them both panting, both wanting more. Reluctantly pulling herself away from him, she glances around to see if anyone is near enough to witness their display

Ben gazes at her, partly in amazement and partly in admiration. He has only seen her like this in late hours of the night, long after the stresses of the hectic everyday routine have evaporated and new ones have formed, when worries over the days to come begin to plague the minds of various students and faculty members. He has never seen wisps of her hair bathed in sunlight, sprinkling the elegant curve of her neck, her cheeks flushed slightly. Here, lies a moment that exists outside of time, a moment he will remember for a very long time after it comes to pass. Suddenly, he feels Rey shoving him against the bridge’s ledge and just like that the moment is over.

Rey’s hand pushes at his chest, making his body tilt back. She lodges herself between his gangly, long legs, rubbing up against him. Grabbing a handful of his hair, she tugs his head towards her, her eyes planted on his. Her thigh brushes up against his, as she grinds into him, the rhythm slow and deliberate.

“Rey, what are you doing?” he says, his tone slightly panicked. His eyes dart from side to side, his heartbeat increasing at the thought of people catching them in such a precarious position, as he breaks eye contact with her to glance behind her. If she continues like this, Ben knows he’ll have a full-on hard-on in no time.

“What?” she asks innocently, her grip on his hair tight, pulling at the roots. “I was just giving you what you want.” She tilts her head. “I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be the boldest and bravest? And you can’t even handle _this_ .” She steps away from him. “But fine, if that’s what you wish. I think you know who’s won this round, _Ben._ ” Her chin is jutted out, chest slightly puffed out.

With her off of him, Ben straightens his posture, fixing his tie. Rey turns, beginning to walk away from him, but he stops her in her tracks with a hand on her shoulder. Pulling her towards him, he kisses her, longful and seeking, knocking the wind from her. Breaking their embrace, he leans down to whisper in her ear, “I hope you know that I will get you back for this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit this ain't my best work, but I really needed to crank this one out so I can get on with the story. Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Also, next chapter will take place in the Prefects' bathroom. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey decides to draw a bath in the Prefect's bathroom after a long, stressful day, only to be interrupted by Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when massages get out of hand.

Rey shuts off the faucet and dips her hand into the Prefect’s bathtub to test the temperature of the water. Finding it satisfactory, on the brink between warm and scorching hot, she lowers herself into the tub, sighing in content as the water soothes over her muscles, as if two gentle hands are threading over her taut body.

Closing her eyes, she sways from side to side slightly. She eventually drifts off, being lulled by the gentle trickling of the water. She reaches a meditative state, allowing herself to succumb to the simple pleasure of the moment, not thinking about the various examinations and projects she must complete and especially not her complicated relationship with Ben.

When the door abruptly swings open, she jolts awake from her trance. Her eyes snap open, as she scrambles to cover herself with her two hands.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, sweetheart,” Ben strolls over to her side, towel tied around his waist. His eyebrows raise, his lip pursed, an innocent look sprouting on his face.

Rey lets out a scoff, rolling her eyes. “How did you get in here?” One eyebrow raises over another. “I’m the only one scheduled for this time.”

“Obviously not because I have my ways,” he smirks down at her.

“I’m not gonna ask what that means because that would make me an accomplice, and I cannot afford to tarnish my _flawless_ record.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He raises his hand up in dismissal. “My mother is the Minister for Magic.”

“Oh? So, she answers to you? A woman like Minister Organa doesn’t seem like the type.”

He flushes slightly red, his hand rising to tread his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit. “ You got me.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She gives him a wry smile and scoots over to one side. “Well, are you going to get inside, or are you going to just stand there?”

“My apologies, my dear, I was too busy getting lost in your eyes,” he fake gushes.

“Oh, shut up,” she chuckles.

Ben drops his robe, and Rey forces herself to avert her eyes to give no indication she is checking him out or rather enjoys checking him out so much. She wonders when it became the norm to make a game out of human interaction, trying to show who cares less.

Water splashes as he settles into the bathtub, swaying from side to side. He sits next to her and decides to put some distance between the both of them, not wanting to invade her space, still testing the boundaries. Once he is in a comfortable position, he leans against the edge of the bathtub, sinking his body further into the depths of the bathtub, shutting his eyes. He runs his fingers through his hair, then rolls his shoulders back and turns his neck from side to side, letting out a contented sigh.

Noticing his distance, she feels the urge to crawl over to his side and run her fingers through his hair for him. Instead, she asks the most blatantly obvious question, “Stressful day?”

“You could say that.” He opens one eye and peers at her through his long eyelashes.  

She lifts her foot out from the bubbly water, flinging water at him.

As the water pelts his face, Ben’s voice rises as he says, “What was that for?” trying to sound serious and stifle down the smile sprouting across his face.

“I was trying to take your mind off the countless things causing you stress.” Her core is shaking in laughter, as she places her right hand over her lips. “Did it work?”

“You could say that,” he maneuvers closer to her to run his hand along the foot she just used to splash him with. Rey draws her head back in laughter, the sensation tickling her. While she is distracted, Ben lifts his other hand up, scooping a handful of water and chucking it in her direction.

She brings her hand to her chest, as she lets out a shocked gasp, her jaw dropping. “Oh, now you’ve declared war!” Dipping her hands below the surface, she flings a scoopful of water at him, as though it’s a snowball. It splatters across his face, blurring his vision for a second. While he wipes away the water from his eyes, she’s managed to straddle him and places his hands behind his head, preventing him from further chucking handfuls of water at her. The cold marble of the bathtub presses into his skin, as she pins his hands against it, a stark contrast to the warm water and the snug grip of her thighs wrapped around his lower body. Her chest is pressed tight against his.

She buries her head into the crook of his neck and whispers into his ear, “I don’t know if it’s just me or you like being in this position.”

“You could say that.” He places his hand on the back of her head, drawing her to look at him. Cradling her face, she leans into him, closing her eyes. She plants a kiss to his inner wrist, and he feels her touch slither all the way down to his spine, jolting him. A strike of lightning. It’s always the simple and innocent touches like these that shake him to the core. Too much too fast, he panics for a second.

“Hey Rey,” he says.

She opens her eyes. “Hmm?” she murmurs.

“Do you mind dialing it back a little? You’ve got me a bit excited.” He looks down to where she is pressed against him.

“Oh sure,” she blushes and slips off of him. She starts to move away from him, but he stops her with a grip on her shoulder.

“I didn’t mean for you to go.” He gestures his head to his right, beckoning her closer. “Come sit next to me.” She maneuvers to his side, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, burying himself into the crook of her neck, the angle perfect. She leans into his chest, cradling against him. Questions of What is this? What do we mean to each other? begin to whisper in their minds, like a fly buzzing near their ears.

To answer these demanding questions, Rey lifts her head up and starts to kiss Ben, two hands gripping the muscles of his chest. Returning her kiss, he runs his fingers through her hair, bringing his hand down to the side of her neck and resting there. Pulling away from her lips, he leans down his head and grazes his lips over her neck, planting kisses in his trail. Rey draws her head back, running her fingers along his taut shoulders, moving up to grip his hair.

Pulling away from her, he says, “As much as I like this, I want to help you destress. I did interrupt your alone time after all.”

“I don’t really mind being alone with you,” she admits. “What do you have in mind?”  

He smiles.“How does a massage sound?”

“Divine,” she practically moans out.

“Ok, hold on a sec.” He heads over to the other side where the compartment with bath supplies lies and grabs hold of a bottle of lavender-scented body oil. “I’m gonna sit back down, and I’ll need you to sit in front of me.”

She nods.

Once he’s seated, he spreads his legs so that she can fit between them. When she’s in position, he opens the bottle, giving it a slight squeeze to release the fluid. As he sees the elegant curve of her neck so close to his lips, it takes a lot in him to not press his lips there, dipping all way down to the base of her spine. That’s the one thing he knows sends lighting spasms all the way down to her toes. Her hair is slightly wet around the edges from their earlier water game, darker than the rest of her hair, nearly black. Rubbing the oil onto his hand, he starts out by gently rubbing her neck.

“Shoulders, please.”

He lowers his hands down to her shoulders, keeping the pressure mild.

“I can’t feel a damn thing. Harder.”

Applying more pressure, he kneads into the muscles of her shoulders. “Damn, Rey, you’re tight.”

“In more places than one,” she remarks, the hint of a smile playing on her lips.

Ben has to suck in a gulp of air to calm the erratic beat of his heart at the thought of actually being inside her. His grip on her shoulder tightens, as he switches the movement of his hands, digging his fingers into her skin. Rey sags forward, her eyes falling closed, and Ben has to steady her to keep her from falling over.

“I’m gonna go lower, okay?” he asks, reapplying oil when he finds it necessary.

She nods, half-dazed, not really caring what he does anymore, so long as he doesn’t stop. He presses his thumbs into the muscles surrounding her spine, rubbing them in small circles, moving from the top to bottom, his hands beginning to brush the surface of the water. When he reaches her lower back, she stills and turns her neck to face him. “Massage the area around my back dimples, yeah?”

He nods, wrapping his hands around her hips, so he can keep his thumbs steady, as he kneads them into the muscles of her lower back. Rey arches her back at his ministrations, biting her bottom lip to keep a moan from escaping. The warmth of the water settling over her body and his purposeful, attentive hands on her makes her feel like she’s sinking. A soothing blanket washes over her, like a wave crashing against the shore, her mind drifting off.

“Don’t stop,” she says.  

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Mmm,” she lulls out, as he continues to massage her.

“If you keep slumping over like that, you’ll fall.”

She sinks back against him, pressing her back against his chest. “Fine,” she says, “We’ll shift gears. Massage my thighs now. They hurt a lot. Weightlifting and all.”

“Of course.”

Gripping the top of her legs with his hands, he trails down to her knees, his head leaning on her shoulder to see what he’s doing. He takes a moment to run his hands along her smooth thighs, reveling in their softness.

“What are you doing?” Rey asks.

“Sorry, I just can’t get over how soft your skin is.” With one hand planted on each thigh, he starts to knead his fingers into her quadriceps in a circular motion. Working his was up and down, he digs his knuckles into her flesh, never placing too much pressure, afraid he might hurt her.

“My inner thigh needs attention. Those squats really got to me.”

“Poor thing,” he croons, brushing his hands over her inner thigh. He squeezes her along her inner thigh with his index finger and thumb, moving down then up. When he gets to the top, giving her a last squeeze, Rey squirms, her muscles shaking.

“Sorry, I’m sensitive there.” She wants him to touch her there. Her nipples are peaked, and she hopes he’ll pinch them between his fingers, as he strokes her hot center. “You better massage my cunt too when you’ve got me all hot and bothered like this.”

“Whatever you want,” he replies. He remembers when he used to be surprised at Rey’s explicit vocabulary and how she never shies away from using the dirtiest, drippiest language when describing what she wants him to do to her or vice versa during their nightly excursions. He brings one hand to her chest, tweaking a hard nipple between his thumb and index finger, giving it a slight squeeze. Rey jerks forward slightly, as he parts her lips beneath the surface. He strokes at her folds, running his fingers over her cunt slowly, searching and delving. Rey moans, pushing herself against his hand, and raises her hand to caress the other nipple. In response, Ben nips at her ear—he likes to watch her touch herself, so caught up in her pleasure, drawing herself closer and closer to the moment when she falls apart.

He starts to circle his fingers over her clit, increasing the pace and pressure. Rey arches her back, grinding her ass back against him, her breath coming out in hot pants. He alternates between pressing his fingers over her nub directly in an up and down motion and rubbing her in hard, fast circles. Not in control of her moans, her cheeks turn that lovely shade of pink that reaches all the way down to her chest. Just when she’s on the brink, he slows his pace and asks, clear and calm, “What’s the difference between Animagi and Metamorphagi?” trying to tease the answer out of her.

“What?” She stammers out, caught off guard by his question, trying to figure out why he’s mentioning Transfiguration at a time like this.

“I said ‘What’s the difference between Animagi and Metamorphagi?’”

“I don’t know!” She shouts out, her irritation apparent.

“What was that?” He’s taunting her now, caressing her desperately slow. “You don’t know?”

“No!” She emits a frustrated groan.

“How come? As Head Girl of Ravenclaw, I thought you were supposed to be the smartest and brightest of them all.”

“You bastard.” She can feel the smirk on his face, and she wants to slap it right off.

“I told you I would get you back, sweetheart.” He pecks her cheek, continuing to edge her then bring her back down.

“I swear to god, Ben, just let me come already.” She writhes against his hand, trying to get enough friction, her muscles quivering.

“Say please.”

“Please,” she grits out.

“Not like that.”

“Please, let me come, Ben,” she says, her tone begging and desperate.

At her request, he hits the right spot, giving her what she wants, and she comes all over his hand, emitting a cry that sounds like something inside her has shattered, ripped right out of her. He doesn’t stop until her body has stop convulsing until she’s truly satisfied. She settles against him, sagging.

Once she’s gotten a hold of herself, her breath resuming its normal pace, she turns around to face him, eyeing him. “I knew you couldn’t possibly be so generous. There had to be some ulterior motive.”

“I wanted to give you the massage. The teasing was just a little extra  _finesse_. Plus, you’re not the only one who enjoys making people squirm.” He tilts his head, eyeing her right back.

“Come to my room, and I’ll show you just how good I am at making people squirm.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a turning point in the story, as Ben and Rey start to come to terms with their feelings for each other. Also, Ben is such an asshole. :) 
> 
> Woah boy, they're finally gonna have sex.

**Author's Note:**

> I love receiving feedback, so let me know what you think in the comments. :)


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